


Never Enough

by embracelouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, I genuinely don't know how to tag this, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:45:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embracelouis/pseuds/embracelouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But it's never enough. The bomb in Liam's chest threatens to explode anytime Louis lays a finger on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheIncredibleHooker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIncredibleHooker/gifts).



> This was written for the wonderful Chiara. 
> 
> I hope you will still like me after you've read it.

_I don't need my love._  
_You can take it, you can take it, take it_  
_I don't need my heart_  
_You can break it, you can break it, break it_

**

Liam feels like he’s spent his entire life being the second choice, ever since he was simply the “chubby friend” in primary school. But he’d thought he’d had his revenge on all the people who had bullied him over the years, all the girls who had rejected him and called him names, the boys who had beaten him and treated him like shit, the people who saw him as only a weak, fat, whiny boy. The wet blanket, the teacher's pet, the useless geek. 

His revenge had come in the form of boxing, when he’d achieved his personal trainer qualification, when he’d realised being fat, being ugly, being unattractive – all of that didn’t really matter at the end of the day. When he’d realised that, in order to be happy, and before he wanted others to like him, he should have to like himself, and _that_ had been the hardest part. The hardest part had been being able to look into the mirror without thinking 'I am beyond repair'.

And Liam isn't sure if, at the age of twenty-seven, that part of him – the self deprecating voice that tells him he isn't enough, he's not fit enough, he's not thin enough, not good-looking enough, that he isn't a good person, or a good friend, or a good brother – has truly gone. That part of him is probably still alive and well, hidden somewhere in the darkest corners of his soul, ready to jump at his throat the moment he lets his guard down. 

And that moment came in the form of a handsome, blue-eyed man. A person that was able to make him feel like he was in heaven and hell at the same time.

**

Liam crumples the Red Bull can in his hand, and with a frustrated huff he unceremoniously dumps it on the coffee table, throwing his body back on the couch and slumping forward until his back is completely sagged against the soft fabric. His legs are twitching though, and he can't seem to get rid of the restlessness that he’s been feeling all evening. The match is still on, only twenty minutes until it ends, but he knows he won't be able to focus his mind on it for a second more. He feels antsy and it has little to do with his favourite team losing to Arsenal. He ventures a look towards the other side of the sofa. Louis is sitting with his hands tucked beneath his thighs, eyes trained on the telly, lights and shapes reflecting on his skin in the otherwise dark room. 

Liam knows that it wasn't a good idea. It wasn't a good idea to come here tonight, it wasn't a good idea to say yes to Louis' proposition of watching the match together, the illusion of a normal night between lads. The cat's out of the bag, and Liam can't take it back.

It had been so easy to ask Louis to come to the gym with him, as a thank you for all that Louis had done for him in the previous two months. It had marked the passage from a solely professional relationship to something more friendly, something even more intimate than the therapy massages Louis had been giving him during Liam's physiotherapy treatment. It had been so easy to fall for Louis, and Liam had known it since their very first session. It had been so easy to look into his blue, open eyes and talk about everything and anything while Louis' dainty hands kneaded his muscles, eased the tension in his leg, his aching tendons slowly relaxing.

Liam spent those two months thinking about a way to prolong the time he and Louis had. When he finally felt his leg had fully recovered and Louis assured him he could go back to work, back to playing footie and back to his normal life before the injury, Liam wasn't in the least ready to stop seeing him. So he came up with that suggestion. Louis agreed to become his 'gym buddy', as he had jokingly said, and they ended up spending a lot of time together, even outside of the gym.

Louis had started to ask him out for drinks, and Liam had found himself cramped in small pubs sat beside Louis, while inebriated punters hollered and cheered at the footie match on telly. On more than one occasion, Liam belatedly realised that he was missing most of the action on screen, more focused on watching Louis beside him laugh and gulp down his beer, throw his punch in the air after someone scored, wiping his mouth on the too long sleeve of his jumper. 

The hours they spent working out together, fun in the beginning, gradually had Liam feeling like they simultaneously were the best and the worst time of his week. Louis had always described himself as lazy when it came to physical activity, had warned Liam that he could end up whining and throwing a tantrum if an exercise didn't appease him. But Liam found out it was mostly a front, because if Louis was determined to really do something, he would give everything he had in order to achieve it. Especially if that something came in the form of a challenge. So Liam would bet Louis on doing a certain number of reps, and Louis would execute the exercise without any hesitation or complaint. 

When Louis' tank top would begin to darken and a tiny pool of sweat gathered on Louis’ brows, Liam knew that his own breath was laboured only partly because of the physical strain. He tried to focus on working out, but his eyes kept wandering towards Louis' exposed sides, his arms that got more toned every day, his fringe wet and plastered to his forehead. Sometimes Liam had the impression that Louis didn't feel completely indifferent to him, that from time to time Louis' fingers would linger on Liam's arm or shoulder longer than necessary. And other times he had caught Louis observing him with such intensity that Liam felt his skin prickle. 

Liam doesn't know if Louis could read on his face what was going through his mind; he's not sure how well he had been able to hide his attraction for him. But Louis seemed content with spending more and more time with Liam, and Liam was certainly not going to complain about that.

If it had only been a crush, something Liam could easily get over with once he realised Louis was not as special as he had imagined, everything would have been different. But it was never just that; Louis felt special in every possible way. Not only they had innumerable things in common, but Liam felt he had never met, and never would meet again, someone as spontaneous, cheeky, and artlessly fun as Louis. Someone that could make him giggle like a little boy one moment, and be serious and professional the next. Someone that made him laugh so much, that Liam often found himself almost weeping, his stomach aching and shaken by cackles. 

Louis was a successful person, someone who already had a great career despite his young age, but had Liam met him one night in a club, he would never have been able to imagine that part of him. On occasions like that, Louis didn't act like an almost thirty year old workaholic, but skidded around like a maniac, chatting animatedly with each person he met, dancing to any song that came on like it was his favourite song in the world. And that is something Liam had always felt he needed in his life. Someone that made him laugh, and made him forget all his problems for a while, someone with whom he felt comfortable talking about anything, someone he could open up to. 

As time went by, though, Liam kept pining for Louis and, along with the feelings he was undeniably developing, the sexual frustration he felt got almost unbearable. This had built to the point of last night, when Liam did something that was, in hindsight, really stupid. 

The two of them were heading home after a night out, which had definitely involved too many drinks and dart games that Liam had lost. Louis was ambling along the road, a few paces ahead of Liam, and Liam's eyes wandered of their own accord to Louis' hips, slightly swaying from side to side. He felt the familiar stir in his lower stomach, a faint arousal that came with a feeling of longing in his chest that kept him awake at night. Because he already knew, and had known all along, that what he felt for Louis wasn't mere physical attraction. That he could really fall in love with him, given the chance, and Liam already felt dangerously infatuated.

When they had arrived in front of Louis' flat, Liam had hung around while Louis dug through his pockets, looking for his keys. Louis extracted a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his coat and Liam grabbed it from Louis' hold. Louis had protested, and Liam, feeling suddenly bold, had taken advantage of his height to hold Louis' cigarettes out of his reach. Louis didn't look too pleased, but Liam tickled him until Louis started to let out a string of giggles that resonated in the silent street. Liam, without really thinking about what he was doing, took a hold of Louis' waist and pressed into him, connecting their bodies, so that Louis had no room to escape. 

The pack of cigarettes completely forgotten, Louis' laughter died in his throat, and he stilled in Liam's embrace, eyes going wide. Liam was sure he’d stopped breathing, and with a start he realised how close their faces actually were. Liam had seen only two options in that moment: release Louis' waist and maybe tickle him some more to dissipate the awkward tension between them; or, just go for it.

Still feeling the alcohol buzz through his veins, Liam had licked his lips almost subconsciously, noticing Louis' eyes flick briefly to his mouth and then right back up to Liam's gaze. He was doing it; he was going to kiss Louis. He felt equal parts brave and terrified as he leaned down to link their lips, but the kiss lasted only for a second. As soon as Liam had lightly grazed Louis' mouth with his, Louis was pulling out of his arms, murmuring that he had to go. Liam was left standing on the pavement with a stunned expression, the warmth of Louis' body suddenly gone, and the cold night air hitting him like a slap in the face.

After a few minutes Liam was able to overcome his inability to move and began to walk down the road with dread rising in his chest. He felt light-headed and like he didn't really know where he was going, or what had just happened. It dawned on him, after his feet had automatically carried him to the front of his block of flats, that he had just fucked everything up. He had probably ruined his friendship, he had certainly scared Louis, and they were never going to see each other again. He would never hear from him again. Fuck, Liam couldn't stand that thought.

As he made his way to his cold, empty bed, like every other night, Liam became determined to find a way to apologise to Louis, to explain that it had all been a mistake, that Liam hadn't meant to kiss him, that he was just stupidly drunk and he wasn't thinking about the consequences of his actions. He collapsed on top of the sheets, sure he was going to toss and turn all night, beating himself up for the mess he had made. He was asleep within a minute, though, his body too exhausted by the alcohol and the long day he’d had to stay awake any longer. 

Liam felt worse when he woke up, the determination to find an excuse and fix things with Louis completely gone. Louis didn't text him, whereas they would normally hear from each other at least once during the day, and Liam was too embarrassed, too ashamed, to try to contact him. Another day went by and Liam tried his best to act like nothing had happened, like it was any other normal day. Except for the fact that it wasn't, and as he saw his clients, and went to the gym, by himself, and fixed himself a frozen dinner, and eventually flopped into bed, a heavy feeling rose and cemented itself in his chest. He was sure Louis was never going to speak to him again. 

The next day, two days after Liam had kissed him, Liam received a text from Louis, asking if he was interested in going to Louis' to watch the match. Liam was quite shocked reading the message. Louis was clearly going to ignore the kiss; he was going to treat Liam like a friend and not speak of what happened ever again. Liam was so desperate to see him, though, that he couldn't find any good reason to say no. He didn't want to reject Louis if he was still willing to have Liam as a friend; Liam was going to take what he could. It had only been two days but he already missed him like crazy.

 

So here they are now. Liam currently on his third can of Red Bull, it is no wonder he feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest. Tachycardia is only one of the side effects of the sickly sweet beverage. He also feels a sizzling energy that he doesn't know how to release. He's fighting the urge to bolt up from the sofa and out of the door without sparing a single word to Louis, but when he looks in Louis' direction he sees he is not the only one who looks like an animal stuck in fight or flight mode.

Louis is staring at the telly, but Liam can sense that he isn't paying attention to the match either.

"Louis," Liam calls, voice only slightly shaking.

Louis' head whips in his direction, and he looks startled. Liam thinks Louis was probably so caught up in his thoughts that the sudden return to reality shocked him a bit.

"I need a cig," Louis says, but he doesn't stand up to get one. He stays where he is, hands now resting on his knees and drawing circles with jerky movements. 

"No, you don't. You have to quit smoking," it's oddly familiar to be having this conversation, the same they already had almost every time Louis smoked while Liam was around.

"Don't tell me what to do, you're so annoying," Louis snaps, his eyes rolling. He refocuses them on the telly, obviously avoiding Liam's gaze again.

"I don't see why you invited me over if you were going to act like this. If you're mad at me, just say it or tell me to fuck off." Liam's voice is uneven and he feels hurt all over, his stomach sinking to his knees. He doesn't want Louis to tell him to leave; he never wants to leave him. But he's not going to let Louis treat him like shit only because Liam hit on him and was rejected, only because Louis now thinks he has the upper hand and can patronise him and act like an asshole. 

Liam doesn't understand. Louis isn't like this. He thought he knew him, he thought he was kind and sweet, understanding; someone that would probably let him down easily when the time came. He was wrong all along. 

"I don't want you to go," Louis replies, after what felt like an eternity. He mutes the telly and finally turns towards Liam. "But I don't know what I'll do if you stay. I don't know what to do."

"Listen, what happened the other night was a mistake. We both know it, and it was all my fault. I should've known I'd be ruining everything, I was drunk –"

"Will you shut up," Louis blurts, moving along the sofa until his thigh is resting against Liam's. 

Liam is stunned into silence and doesn't even register Louis' weight against him.

"What if I was the one who made a mistake," Louis says, now entirely in Liam's space. "I don't know why I left like that. I was scared."

"Of what?" Liam is acutely aware of Louis' increasing proximity. Their faces are now only a few inches apart.

"I don't know. You just caught me off guard, I was totally unprepared for something like that."

"Sorry, I –"

"Shh, don't say sorry. I'm sorry," Louis says and he lifts his right hand. It lingers mid-air for a second, before Louis rests it lightly on Liam's bicep. "I'm sorry that I left like that, and that I ignored you the day after, and that it took me so long to come around."

Liam wants to reply, but he doesn't say a thing. His lips feel glued together, his mouth suddenly dry and all his senses overwhelmed by Louis' touch. 

"I'm going to kiss you now, if that's ok," Louis whispers, unsure.

Liam gulps and doesn't even bother to form an answer before he is grabbing Louis' nape, drawing their lips together. Louis' tongue gently pokes into Liam's mouth and moves around, exploring. Liam's feeling dizzy. Louis tastes like beer and the chips he was munching on when Liam had arrived. But there is another taste hiding beneath, deeper, and Liam wants to kiss Louis until everything else is erased and he can find out what he really tastes like.

Liam feels Louis' hand card through his short hair, just shy of tugging, and he kisses Louis with more force. His mind is on stand-by, all his thoughts frozen except for the shocking realisation that this is actually happening. This is not one of Liam's daydreams, this is not one of the images that pop into his head just before he falls asleep, when picturing Louis wanting him as much as Liam wants him doesn't feel like an empty illusion. When he can actually let himself fantasise about what it would be like to touch Louis everywhere, feel him so impossibly close, see what he looks like when he comes.

They continue to snog like two horny teenagers, until Liam feels his jeans grow tight and the pressure in his groin becomes almost insufferable. Louis' mouth detaches from Liam's as he starts to make his way down Liam's neck, and then he is biting and sucking hard. Liam whimpers, caught by surprise, and the sharp pain of Louis' teeth is immediately replaced by a warm tongue soothingly licking on the same spot. 

"Sorry," he mumbles against Liam's skin, "I like to leave marks."

"Yeah," Liam responds weakly, slinging an arm around Louis' waist to pull him closer.

Louis props up on one knee and repositions himself in Liam's lap, his arms around Liam's neck. He starts to kiss him again, wiggling until his bum rests on Liam's erection. Liam moans, Louis' weight on his cock making everything even more excruciating. Liam wants to do so much. He wants to strip Louis naked, kiss every inch of his body, discover every mole and every scar that adorns his skin. He wants to know what he smells like in his most intimate parts, what it feels like to have him spread out beneath him, begging to be taken apart. Or what it would be like to be taken apart by Louis, to feel completely helpless and at his mercy. 

Liam lifts Louis' shirt up, until Louis gets the hint and lets Liam take it off, revealing his tawny skin. Liam takes in the view before him thirstily, squinting in the semi-darkness that surrounds them. He takes in Louis' naturally tanned complexion, a dark patch of hair on his lower belly that disappears below his sweats, his small pink nipples. Liam drags his thumb above the right one and it immediately gets hard under his touch. He barely registers Louis' sharp intake of breath, before he feels Louis' hands scramble at his sides, clawing at his jumper. Liam lifts his arms and Louis quickly gets rid of the piece of clothing.

"You're so fucking fit," Louis hisses, his blunt nails scratching a line from Liam's collarbones to his pecs. Liam doesn't believe Louis' words; he wants to protest. He wants to say that Louis is the fit one, with his bright eyes, his perfect bone structure, high cheekbones and petite, almost feminine body; with his strong thighs, his taut arms and dainty feet. He wants to say that Louis isn't even remotely in his league. But he doesn't say anything, and lets what he knows is a lie linger in the air between them. 

Louis caresses Liam's chest hair, eyes dark and unfocused, then resumes his attack on Liam's neck. He shifts backwards until he can nibble at Liam's chest, and then lifts himself up from Liam's lap ending up on his knees between Liam's legs. 

Liam is unable to tear his eyes away from Louis' face. He looks so hot like this, hair tousled and sticking in every direction, eyes almost glassy, lips slack and shining red from all the kissing and biting. Liam undoes his flies, but soon his hands are batted away and Louis lowers the jeans along with Liam's pants. Liam's cock springs free and Liam releases a long breath, finally feeling some of the pressure ease off. But he is almost blind with arousal now, the sight of Louis between his thighs, face so close to his cock, enough to make his head spin. 

"Wow," is all Louis says before he is ducking his head down, one hand on the base of Liam's cock. He starts to lick at the head, Liam moaning low in his throat. Louis seems to be quickly tired of teasing though, because next thing Liam knows his cock is disappearing into Louis' unbearably hot mouth, and he feels himself hit the back of Louis' throat. Liam knows he is big, and Louis is taking in as much as he can, already gagging on it. 

Liam is utterly incapable of believing what is currently happening. If he had an ounce of coherence left in his brain, he would ask Louis to pinch him to make sure this is not a dream. But he is acutely aware that it wouldn’t be necessary, because Liam's senses are going berserk. Every inch of his skin feels on fire and there's a blazing beacon in his lower stomach, pleasure radiating to the tip of his toes. 

Louis gave up on the deep-throating, and he is now blowing Liam with short, strong drags of his mouth, in a relentless up and down rhythm. Liam would be amazed by Louis' tenacity if his mind weren't so hazy, hot white pleasure obscuring everything else. 

"If you keep up like this I'm going to come soon," Liam manages to blurt, words coming out strained.

Louis’ mouth immediately interrupts its ministrations, much to Liam's despair. Liam grunts as Louis stands up and shucks off his sweats and briefs. Liam's mouth gapes at the sight of Louis' hard dick, and he feels a compelling urge to lick the pre-come gathered at its tip. 

"I'll be right back," Louis says as he switches on the lights, before skidding towards the bathroom. The sudden brightness violates Liam's sensitive eyes. He had gotten used to the darkness, but now that he sees properly the mess Louis has made of him he groans. His dick is covered in what must be Louis' saliva, Liam's pubic hair wet and darker, his cock weakly twitching against his lower belly. 

Thankfully, Louis is back in no time, bearing a small bottle of lube and a condom. He puts the items on the coffee table, and Liam finds himself staring directly at Louis' cock. It's not big, but it is thick, especially around the middle, and it looks simply delicious. Liam shifts over the edge of the sofa and grabs Louis' hips to keep him in place. He licks along Louis' shaft, savouring every inch of the salty skin, until he wraps his mouth around the tip and lightly sucks. 

Liam thinks he could suck Louis off all day, everyday. The weight of his cock on Liam's tongue is just perfect, and it tastes amazing, just like he was sure it would. It's better than any of his wildest dreams, though, because his nose is buried in Louis' pubes and his scent is intoxicating. He hums around Louis' cock, feeling Louis shiver in his grasp. Soon, though, Louis is pulling him away. 

"Foreplay is over," Louis tries to go for a casual tone, but his voice is husky and when Liam's mouth leaves his cock he can't hold in a breathy moan.

Liam is only then realising what are the implications of Louis' detour to the bathroom, and he feels so close to coming at just the _idea_ of fucking Louis, or being fucked by him. He stands up too, pressing his naked body to Louis', breath hitching when their cocks brush together. 

"How are we going to do this?" Liam mutters between kisses, his hands trailing of their own volition to Louis' lower back, cupping his arse. Liam had ogled Louis' arse on more than one occasion, almost every time they were in each other's presence, if he had to be honest. And he knew Louis had a great bum, he _knew_ it. But he never actually thought he would have the chance to touch it, to squeeze Louis' arse cheeks and press their groins together in the process. He never thought he would be able to trail his finger over Louis' crack, feel him shudder in his embrace like that.

"Yes," is all Louis says, almost purring as Liam presses his index against his hole. 

They manage to untangle from each other's arms and Louis gets on his knees again, this time on top of the sofa, arms perched on the backrest. Liam starts to massage Louis' hole again, after he has poured some lube on his fingers. He carefully inserts his middle finger inside, but Louis grabs his wrist. 

"Please, go slow. It's been a while," he says, upper body twisted so he can face Liam, and Liam suddenly sees Louis' bold front crumbling a little. He had been so unabashed until then, like he wanted to give the impression that he had everything under control, that he wasn't affected that much by the situation. But Liam can see it now. Louis is just as nervous as Liam feels, maybe, probably, not for the same reasons. Liam is oddly glad, though, that Louis is letting him see through his calm façade, if only for a brief moment.

"Of course. Don't worry, I'll be gentle." 

Liam is eager to open Louis up, but he doesn't want to make this the tiniest bit uncomfortable for him. So he takes his time, and fucks his finger in Louis' hole until it feels completely safe to add one more. 

Louis' back is noticeably shivering, but he is mostly silent, apart from the whimpers that escape his mouth every now and then. Liam starts to massage Louis' balls with his other hand, and Louis is visibly straining to stay still. Liam adds a third finger, together with a little bit more lube, and this time Louis moans loudly when Liam pushes it in. 

"Alright?" Liam stills his fingers and waits for Louis' reply. It takes Louis a moment to formulate something coherent.

"Yes, go on," he says as he bears his arse down on Liam's fingers.

Liam fucks Louis with his fingers for a bit more, trying to apply pressure on Louis' prostate. When Louis' groans get particularly loud, and his body jolts forward and then down again, he knows he's found it. 

"I'm ready," Louis breathes, frantically lifting his arse from Liam's hand, jutting it out more, inviting.

Liam dries his fingers with his shirt and reaches for a condom, opening the foil with shaking hands. As he puts it on and spills more lube on his dick, Liam feels Louis' eyes on him, observing his every movement. When Liam's done Louis returns to face the other way, and Liam is finally lining up his cock to Louis' hole. He starts to push in carefully, as slowly as he manages. 

It's an addictive sensation, his cock buried in Louis' tight, exquisitely hot arse and Liam feels like he doesn't want to be anywhere else in his life. Louis falls still, silent. His hand grabs Liam's forearm and squeezes tight.

"Alright?" 

"Yeah, just give me a second," Louis pants, breathing hard through his mouth. When his grip on Liam's arm loosens, Liam is dying to start moving. But he wants to be sure Louis' body has adjusted to his size, so he asks him, in a hushed tone, if he is ok.

"Yeah, go on." Louis mutters.

Liam starts to properly fuck him, grabbing Louis' meaty hips in a firm grip. It doesn't take long until Liam feels on the verge of his orgasm. He leans on Louis' back and starts to jerk him off at an erratic rhythm, their moans mingling in the stuffed air of the room. Liam hadn't pegged Louis as someone particularly loud in bed, but high-pitched moans belt out of his throat with each of Liam's thrusts, overlapping his own low growls. 

Louis is suddenly coming in Liam's fist, and the unexpected slick sensation together with Louis' incoherent mumbles of 'oh God, yeah' are enough to tip him over the edge, and he spills into the condom, falling still and feeling his legs tingle. 

Liam breathes heavily for a minute, still perched on Louis' back, arms propped up on the backseat of the sofa, his hands digging in the upholstery. When he finally feels safe to stand on his feet, he gingerly extracts his cock. He takes off the condom, ties it in a knot and puts it back in its package, dumping it on the coffee table next to the crushed Red Bull can.

Louis is sitting on his heels on the couch, facing Liam, and he is strangely quiet. Liam doesn't know what to say, so he heads for the bathroom. He takes a quick wee, and lingers a second longer to observe his reflection in the mirror. There's a bright red lovebite on the left side of his neck and his hair is messy. He looks tired and, ultimately, freshly fucked.

He makes his way back to the living room and finds Louis already dressed up, drinking from a bottle of water, holding an unlit cigarette in his right hand. At once Liam doesn't feel all that comfortable in his naked body anymore, so he starts to put his clothes back on while Louis still remains silent.

"So," Liam starts, but he doesn't really know what to add.

"So," Louis repeats, putting the cigarette in his mouth and standing up, "Don't scold me now, Liam, I think I really deserve this one." His tone seems light, casual, but there's a tense undertone to it that Liam isn't quite able to pinpoint. 

Liam had thought that, if he and Louis ever hooked up, everything would finally fall into place. Liam had thought, maybe foolishly, that Louis would've told him how much he wanted him, that he went through the exact same tribulations because of their mutual attraction, that he had wanted him all along, just like Liam, but was too scared to ruin their friendship if he ever acted upon his attraction for Liam. 

That doesn't seem to be the case, though. It looks more like what they did was just a quick, dirty fuck on the sofa. Something that left traces which needed to be erased straight after, Liam thinks, noticing that the lube and the discarded condom are gone, while the can is still in its place.

"You deserve it?" Liam replies after a beat, his voice dull, heart thrumming in his chest.

"Yes, I don't know if you've noticed the massive thing you have between your legs," Louis sniggers, lighting up the cigarette and heading towards the kitchen, the only room where he can smoke without the smell invading the whole flat.

That was probably supposed to be a compliment, but Liam feels floored. He almost wants to rewind time, go back to right before he agreed to come here that afternoon. Louis now looks completely relaxed, thick stripes of white smoke erupting from his still rose lips. His eyes are hooded, he is staring outside of the window. And Liam telepathically pleads him to turn around, to look him in the eyes. He doesn't have the strength to say anything, but he wants to be wrong so much. He can't cope with Louis' indifferent gaze, the shallow comment about the size of his dick, the aloof aura that he is now giving off. 

Liam could probably hang around a little more. Watch Louis smoke, chat with him about mundane topics, like they would normally be doing if this were any other night. Except it's not. They just had sex and Liam had imagined, had hoped, that if he ever had the chance to see that part of Louis, to know him in the most intimate way physically possible, it would've marked a shift in their relationship. It would've meant Liam kissing Louis whenever he pleased, cuddling him, the two of them spending the night tangled around each other under the sheets, waking up together, maybe having lazy morning sex. 

But the concrete reality before his eyes is quite different, and he feels shattered. And he knows, he already knows, that Louis doesn't want any of what Liam had dreamed about. He knows that what to Liam had been the fulfillment of months of pining, of fantasies, of sexual frustration, to Louis had only been a friendly shag. He can't complain, really. He should've known. He shouldn't have deluded himself. He shouldn't have been duped into the false hope that Louis could really reciprocate what Liam feels for him, that he could consider Liam more than a friend.

Liam wants to forget what happened. He still feels the ghost of Louis' hands on his skin, of Louis' mouth tracing him everywhere, kissing him and giving him pleasure. He wants to erase that feeling, though, he wants those images gone.

"I should be going, then," Liam finally speaks, and Louis turns around. His expression is unreadable, and Liam feels the corners of his mouth curl up. But he knows his eyes remain empty, that it must've looked more like a grimace. He doesn't want Louis to sense how much Liam is hurt, so he tries to smile, tries to look unaffected, totally cool with the situation. 

 

When Liam gets home the first thing he does is strip and have a long shower. He wants to erase the traces too, wants to forget that he got to make Louis his, to see him squirm and shudder under his touch, only for that to be immediately taken away from him afterwards. He is going to act like it is all alright, he is going to be the friend Louis wants, he is never going to ask for more again. 

**

Louis doesn't seem to agree with that though, because two weeks later Louis fucks Liam in the backseat of Liam's car after they had been to see a footie match outside London. Louis is still extremely vague, he doesn't say much afterwards, only digs his finger into Liam’s neck, just above his birthmark.

"I like it," he points out.

"It's ugly. I whish I could have it surgically removed," Liam is trying to rearrange the car seat in the right position. This time he doesn't let himself think about what just happened. He focuses on the task at hand. He has to drive back to London, focus on the road. 

"I don't get you, you look all confident from the outside. But then you only have negative things to say about yourself." 

Louis fiddles with the radio stations, Liam starts the engine and wills his mind to only concentrate on the pedals, the gear, the yellow lights and white stripes of the motorway. 

It happens again, a few times. A quick shag after a night out, and Liam leaving when he still can feel Louis' lips on his. A stolen kiss while they are drunk, in a toilet, and Liam had been invited out along with some of Louis' uni friends. When they make it back into the club, Louis acts like his usual, loud, obnoxiously cheerful self. He wipes his mouth inconspicuously, and treats Liam in the same way he treats Niall, Stan, Zayn. 

**

One day, while Liam and Louis are snogging on Louis' sofa, Niall, completely unannounced, enters into the flat carrying two huge Ikea bags. Louis quite literally bolts, his mouth disconnecting from Liam's with a loud smack, as he tries to distance himself from Liam as much as he can. 

**

"Are you ashamed of me?" Liam had tried to maintain a collected appearance while Niall was there, but as soon as Louis' friend had left, Liam was sure he wouldn't be able to pretend he was ok anymore.

"What?" Louis is baffled, eyebrows arched, eyes wide. He almost looks offended, and Liam wants to laugh and yell at him. He wants to leave, slamming the door behind him.

But he remains frozen still on the spot, staring as Louis' expression softens and he takes Liam's hand in his.

"Liam, I am _not_ ashamed of you, you really talk some bullshit sometimes. I just don't want everyone to know my private stuff. I like to keep myself to myself, and what we do behind closed doors isn't anyone's business but mine and yours." 

The worst thing is that Louis looks sincere, he looks genuinely bewildered at the thought of Liam thinking that he is embarrassed of him. Liam tries to relax his features, tries to convince himself that Louis is speaking the truth.

"Do you know your eyebrows scrunch up when you are angry?" Louis teases, carefully, testing the waters.

"I know. My forehead will be all wrinkly soon if I don't stop frowning like that." Liam knows what Louis is trying to do, but he can't bring himself to complain.

"And you have those puppy eyes. Those eyes of yours, so deep and so brown," Louis continues, in a charming tone. He crowds Liam, probably going on his tippy toes, and nuzzles his nose against Liam's cheeks. Liam leans into the touch, unable and unwilling to resist him. Louis is kissing his face, little pecks on his cheeks, on the tip of his nose, on his closed eyelids.

Liam is surprised, but he's certainly not going to protest. Louis has never been so sweet, so soft with him. But he realises that, maybe, it is just an answer to Liam's previous question. That Louis wants to reassure him that he does like him, that Liam is not only a dirty secret. Or, maybe, this sudden display of fondness is just a reflection of Louis' guilt. But Liam doesn't know if Louis can tell how far gone he is for him. So he decides to stop thinking and take what he can get, live in the moment, appreciate this new part of Louis, for how much time Liam will be able to see it.

They never talk about it, but Liam knows it's because Louis doesn't _want_ to talk about it. Louis likes it when things are easy, Louis likes when he doesn't have to think about anything that might put him into trouble, when everything is smooth and simple and effortless. He doesn't like to complicate things, and Liam doesn't know if that is because he simply doesn't care much if Liam is there to have sex with him or not. If he simply doesn't see a reason why they should talk about the new addition to their, otherwise unspoiled, friendship. But it's never enough; the bomb in Liam's chest threatens to explode anytime Louis lays a finger on him. 

**

The last time they have sex, Liam tells Louis that he is in love with him. And Liam knows it's over. The friendship is over; the affair is over. 

They are on Louis' sofa. They never actually fucked on a proper bed, Liam realises. They were quick to put their clothes back on, like every other time. And Louis looks smaller than usual in his oversized sweats and hoodie, he looks delicate and vulnerable. But to Liam's eyes he is the most terrifying thing he's ever seen.

Louis is silent for a long time, not meeting Liam's gaze. 

"I don't know–" he abruptly stops, clears his throat, and continues, "I had no idea."

"I should've told you sooner. Or not tell you at all." Liam had made a conscious decision though. It wasn't something he had blurted out by mistake, a confession made in the heat of a moment. 

"I don't know what to say, I don't –" Louis is defensive now, "How could I have known?" and his tone gives him away. 

He knew, he had to know. Maybe it wasn't deliberate, maybe Louis hadn't really meant to break Liam's heart. But he had repeatedly broken it already, so one more time shouldn't make any real difference.

But it actually hurts like hell, and Liam tries to stave off the sinking despair in his chest. He turns away, hastily tying his shoelaces.

"Liam, I'm sorry," Louis is saying, "Liam, look at me."

Liam leaves, not looking back. He doesn't want to see the pity in Louis' eyes, he doesn't want to listen to his apologies, he doesn't want to hear the sympathy in his voice.

Sometime later, Louis texts Liam to tell him he got back together with his ex. It's a long message, where Louis says he misses Liam and that he hopes that, one day, they'll be able to be friends again. Liam doesn't reply.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry not sorry  
> I run a humble blog [here](http://louisgotpappedsnoggingt.tumblr.com/)


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